• Jahn stood at attention, bracing himself for the rant he knew was coming. His commander, known as Friar, was not even remotely describable as happy at the moment. Jahn had been on surveilance near the city center, and had spotted a man setting fire to one of the homes in the area.
    He disobeyed direct orders by leaving his post and taking action. Unfortunately, he failed to catch the arsonist and caused accidental injury to several civillians.
    This was one of Jahn's few mistakes he had made while on the Raan Domestic Defense Force, or RDDF. In fact, he made so few mistakes that at 17 years of age, Jahn would be the youngest captain in the history of RDDF.
    Would be, if not going on probation.
    Commander Friar was already boiling, his face turning a deep red as he used words such as 'irresponsible' , 'careless' , and 'an embarassment' to describe this mistake.
    The young man was blocking most of the tirade out, knowing it was mostly bark, very little bite. That's what he thought, anyway.
    "Give me your badge" was one thing that slipped through into Jahn's mind, though. He was taken aback. "Give me your badge," Friar repeated. "You're not on this force anymore." The boy nearly fainted as he removed the badge from his wrist. He handed it to the commander. "Your blaster too," the officer added.
    Jahn unclipped the standard .20-38 blaster from its holster. The gun was a marvel of Raan engineering. It used a plasma blast, 38 per clip, to stun criminals on the run. It also took only .20 seconds between shots to charge, not the fastest weapon, but effective enough. The gun passed hands from the boy to the commander.
    Friar waved to signify that Jahn could leave. The boy strode out of the office. Anyone that knew Jahn would have seen his face, and gotten out of the way before they found themselves unable to use their arms or legs.

    "There is something strange here. . ."
    A young man of about 18 years stood on a sidewalk in the city. He looked up and down all of the streets to see:
    Nothing. No vehicles, no people, just the cold, gray buildings lining the streets. He sighed and sat down against one of said buildings. The man began rummaging through his messenger bag. His usual personal affects. A few notebooks, some pencils and pens, harmonica, and several ID's.
    The man pulled out an ID that read Thomas Black. There was a picture on it, but not quite accurate. Thomas did not have a beard like in the picture, and he was only 18, not 23 like it said. He slipped the ID back into the bag as the sun rose on the horizon. The city came to life then.
    "Apparently, this is a city that sleeps," Thomas muttered. With another sigh, he stood up and began walking along the sidewalk as automobiles began to flood the streets and crowds of people rushed off to their various work places.
    "I'd better find myself a place to work as well," Thomas stated to himself. "Here we go again."

    To be continued